


oh baby, they prefer illusion to despair

by iwillwalk500miles



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (does it count as bashing when every bad thing he does is technically in character?), BAMF Women, Blood Magic, Death as a Person, Explicit Language, Female Harry Potter, Gen, Hufflepuff Harry Potter, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, LGBTQ Themes, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Minor Character Death, Necromancer Harry Potter, Necromancy, No Bashing, POV Third Person Omniscient, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Study of Ancient Runes (Harry Potter), The Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter) is Terrible, Well-Meaning Albus Dumbledore, Wizarding Politics (Harry Potter), but that doesn't mean holly (a future useless bisexual) will not have crushes, except snape, her name is thana, i think it's awesome that holly ends up in hufflepuff don't @ me, i'm playing with a new writing style pardon me, man i fucking hate that guy, they are tiny children so no slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:14:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22806916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillwalk500miles/pseuds/iwillwalk500miles
Summary: Holly Potter is remarkably unlucky, this is simply a fundamental fact of life.Her exploits in the magical world, unsurprisingly, reflect on that.Or; In which Rose Holiday Potter would really rather not have to actually fight a crazed dark lord, thank you very much, and she'd also rather not have to deal with the repercussions of apparently already defeating him as an infant.
Relationships: Daphne Greengrass & Harry Potter, Death & Harry Potter
Comments: 30
Kudos: 169





	1. so, there's this girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holly meets Death, things don't go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #justquarantinethings

So, there’s this girl, right? She’s like a vibration made human, she has this way of moving—quick and scared and deliberate—and she has this way of talking, all rushed and jumbled and far too energetic. See this girl, she isn’t like her family at all, she’s got this tan brown skin and too messy dark curls, and she’s got the _weird_ too green eyes. The thing about this girl, is that—well, she could easily be mistaken for a hummingbird, she’s so spastic and hurried. That would be quite fine, if she had parents and people who genuinely cared for her, but she doesn’t have that, see? She has an aunt and an uncle, and even a cousin! But they don’t like her much, and this girl—well, she just didn’t know _why._

They didn’t like the way she asked questions, and they didn’t like the way she talked, and they didn’t like the way she moved, and they definitely didn’t like the way she took up space in the cupboard under the stars.

It wasn’t a big thing really, how little they actually liked her. This girl, she was only ten, right? What could she have done to be the recipient of all these injustices? Nothing, as a matter of fact, absolutely nothing. But, well, her relatives didn’t like her much anyway.

She’d only just turned ten, when she meets someone even weirder than herself. It isn’t much of a big event if I’m being honest, when she meets her. Death. 

See, the thing about Death, is that she has too many names. The diety’s got lists upon lists, Hades they call her, La Muerte they scream—Thanatos and Osiris and Mictēcacihuātl—they seem to love to try and call her all these _things,_ those mortals. They call Death, they call her suffering, they call her cruel, they call her the bane of their existence—they _hate,_ even the souls that come freely. They call her a man, Death, they romanticize her and make sure she comes across as this all-knowing being, they call her God.

Not that she minds being worshiped of course, but the thing about Death, is that she rather likes being a woman most of the time—sure she doesn’t always have a preference, sometimes she likes being called a man instead of a woman, sometimes she doesn’t like being called either. 

But, really—she’s got far too many names, and little Holly is the first to really understand this, in the way that innocent children do, of course.

“I’ve got too many names too.” Little Holly said, chattering on as she took in the sigh around her, the sun shines on her face as she sits in front of a tree. A figure stands in front of her, very tall to a child, and shrouded in a cloak of silver and shadows. They’re surrounded by a sea of purple flowers Holly doesn’t know the name of, and the sun licks at her skin as it shines through the branches and leaves. “I’m called freak, and girl, and a waste of space.” She went on, absentmindedly counting out the names on her small fingers. “I’m called bitch, and cunt, and stupid—”

“Those aren’t names.” Death breathed, shrouded in her cloak. Little Holly can not see it, but she is frowning. 

Holly frowned right back. (Though of course she doesn’t _know_ she’s frowning right back, she just thinks she’s frowning.) “Well of course they are.” She pursed her lips, crossing her arms out in front of her. “You say they call _you_ a monster, and cruel, and the bane of their exis-tence.” She scowled over the words ‘bane’ and ‘existence’ she’d never heard them before, but clearly the context means they must be bad.

“That’s different.” Death protested gently. “People are _supposed_ to call me these things, your relatives aren’t supposed to call you… those.”

“Well they do.” Holly interrupted when Death trailed off, “And both of the people in our… er—lives, were wrong to do it.”

Death was silent for a moment. “Tell me, Little Holly, why do you think I’m here?”

Holly scoffed. “Well I’ve died, haven’t I? I was hungry, so very hungry.” She suddenly looked very morose. “And I couldn’t move, because the cupboard door was locked, and now I’ll never get to know what chocolate cake tastes like, or treacle tart, or fish and chips—”

“What if I told you that you didn’t have to?” Death interjected, hiding her anger. She’d seen many children such as this, and could never get over the sadness that filled her when she found them. “What if I told you that there’s an entire world that you’re supposed to be apart of, a happy life you were supposed to live, and that very old and powerful men have decided to keep it from you?” 

(Let it be known that at first Death was not to shove Holly’s soul back into her body, but was to gesture to the two souls behind her she hadn’t noticed, and let them take it from there.)

“I’d tell you not to get my hopes up.” Holly snarked back, with far too much cynicism for a normal ten year old. (But then again, Little Holly _isn’t_ normal isn’t she? After all, she’s been having a conversation with Death, and once she’d accidentally turned Dudley’s hair magenta.) “I’d also ask you if you could make them hurt…” She looked tired. “Whoever kept it from me should get that and more.”

Death stared for a moment. “Do you know who I am, Little Holly?”

“Of course.” This was, of course, the biggest lie that Holly had ever told someone in her entire lifetime. (Or was it deathtime, since she’d starved and wasn’t breathing anymore?) She knew that this person was not at all a person, and must be some sort of personification of the fact that she was now _dead_ , but she couldn’t say who she was exactly. Holly, desperate to have a little more time to talk to someone who seemed to _like_ talking to her, lied. (It really wasn’t all that hard.)

Death smiled, a knowing exasperated smile that Holly couldn’t exactly see because of the large dark hood covering her face. “I meant, do you know my name?”

“Not your favorite one.” Holly answered, thinking quickly. “I think if I should call you something, it should be the one you like, since nobody else is doing it.”

“Not bad.” Death admitted, “Very clever, Little Holly.” Her hands go to her hood, pale delicate fingers wrapping around the edge of the silvery material. 

Holly gapes.

The woman in front of her is heart-stoppingly beautiful. If you were to look upon her, just once, perhaps on the streets or on your way home from work—the only type of divinity that you think could ever accompany her would be that of angels. She… she looked like Life, like what millions of humans would personify as the thing that makes them breathe, that makes their heart beat and their world thrive. Looking upon her was like breathing in something sweet and plentiful, blonde hair so soft and fluffy looking one might mistake it for cotton candy. Her face was freckled, dusted across the bridge of her nose and her high cheekbones like the stars in the night sky. And her eyes, they were the color of grass, pale green and oh so full of life.

(The irony was not lost upon her, the fact that the deity of death looked as though she was life itself.)

The only sign that there was more to her than what could be seen was the odd flickering the whites in her eyes seemed to have, as though they could not decide on which color they wanted to be. (The whites would be white for a moment, completely and utterly normal, only to flicker to the deepest most shadowy black. It was as though Holly was looking into darkness itself, and somehow she could not help but forget to be afraid.) That, and the eerily pale skin that the woman had, almost as though there was not a single drop of red blood in her body to produce any sign of a rosy blush.

“You’re _very_ pretty.” Holly whispered. “Very very pretty.”

Death smiled, preening slightly. “You are one of the rare few who say so.”

“That’s dumb.” Holly said in surprise, almost angry on Death’s behalf. That no one else had seen fit to call Death something as simple as ‘ _pretty_ ’ seemed absurd. “You are the prettiest person I’ve ever seen in my life!”

“You’ve only had ten years of that.” Death commented, “And you should have many years more, so that you may learn that I am not the most prettiest thing you will find, there will be girls and boys, animals and plants, creatures of fire and water and earth and sky—there will be phenomenons only explained by science and miracles only explained by magic. You will see the colors of the Earth, of life itself—and you will fall in love with the wind that kisses your skin, the oxygen in your lungs.”

(This was, once again, a lie. Death wasn’t to shove little Holly back into her body, there were serious consequences that the young girl would have to face otherwise, and she didn’t want to see her suffer more than she already had. Instead, Death would give her a slice of heaven, an eternity with her parents in the afterlife.)

Holly frowned, and opened her mouth to protest, to say that it isn't possible to say that nothing would change her opinion—only to falter. “You… you’re going to bring me back to life?”

“Yes.” Death breathed softly, kneeling down in front of her. The grass stains her cloak, though she doesn’t seem to notice. “You will live, Little Holly, and you will love.” She smiles. “Often you’ll find that the two coincide.” 

“I don’t want to leave you.” Holly said honestly, looking up into the eyes of Death and leaning closer. “You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met, and I don’t want to leave you.”

(It makes the two souls behind her weep, not that Holly notices.)

Death hesitated. “Holly darling, there is so much to teach you, too much.” She placed her hands on the little girl’s cheeks, brushing her thumbs under her eyes. “I cannot—” And then she sees it, the lightning shaped scar on her forehead reaching down in branches toward her right eyebrow. “Oh no.” 

(And the souls go silent.)

“What is it?” Holly asked anxiously, “Can’t I stay with you?”

Death was not the only deity. No, there are four more, and one (the meddling ass) has put a mark (the mark of Death herself) upon Holly’s brow. She finds herself tracing the scar with the pads of her fingers, and anguish—sweet and unforgiving—fills her body. 

“Holly.” She said softly. “How did you get this scar?”

“I don’t know.” Holly rushed out, as though answering quickly would allow Death to stay. “Aunt Petunia says I got it in the car crash.”

“If I thought you were special before.” Death mused, sadness giving way to humor. “Oh, Little Holly, you are in luck. It appears as though I cannot ever truly leave you.”

“Really?” There’s an excitement in her voice, the kind that warms the souls of others when they hear it. “Wait…” Holly frowned, “I don’t want to be a bother.” 

“You won’t be.” Death said firmly. “Never, not to me.” _You are, after all, one of mine._

“So you’ll follow me back?” 

“Yes.” Death nodded, “I will.” And Death resolved herself in giving life back to the young girl in front of her, and hopes that her counterpart (the deity of life) does not notice. And then the walk, hand in hand, away from the fields of Elysium and away from little Holly Potter’s parents, who had watched the entire scene with more anguish than happiness, unnoticed.

“Say.” Holly began, looking up at Death. “You never did tell me your favorite name.”

“Thana.” Death said, thinking of Life. “Call me Thana.”

* * *

The issue with living the same life twice is a very peculiar one. Technically, Holly Potter died on her tenth birthday, starved and beaten—she died knowing that she was unloved and uncared for. And unbeknownst to her, one person who did care for her _did_ in fact know of her death.

(This person was none other than Albus Dumbledore himself, and while he was wracked in grief and desperation—he almost did not notice the trinket on his second shelf that followed Holly Potter, blink faintly back to life. But that of course, is not as important as the fact that no one else knew she was alive.)

The issue with living the same life twice is a very peculiar one. Technically, Holly Potter was reborn one day after her tenth birthday, awoken by the loud sobs of her Aunt Petunia. 

“Er—why are you crying, Aunt Petunia?” Holly asked her, tilting her head and trying to sit up, only to find that she was in great pain. “And, er… why are you hugging me?” She’d never done _that_ before. 

Her aunt, of course, stops immediately, shooting back and away from her. 

Holly blinked, green eyes groggy. “My stomach hurts.” 

Her aunt said nothing, the woman just sitting with her back against the wall, staring. “Oh.” She whispered, “Well that’s just not fair.” (And by that, she means that it wouldn’t be fair for Holly, who’d managed to get away from the suffering in the house only to be brought right back.)

“I think I died.” Holly continued as though she hadn’t heard her, and shakily lifted one arm to press against her chest. “Oh.” She blinked, finding no heartbeat. “Well I guess I’m _still_ technically dead.” She takes this as well as she can, and by that I mean she simply pushes the thought that she is clinically dead deep deep down inside of her and pretends it hadn’t happened.

“I must have gone insane.” Aunt Petunia mumbled. “This is punishment for my sins, isn’t it? Why couldn’t I have at least convinced Vernon to _feed_ the girl? I’m a horrible excuse for a human being.”

“Quite.” A voice that comes from neither of the humans agrees, “I’ll take my ward and help her now, I think.” 

“Oh.” Holly brightened immediately. “Hullo, Thana!”

(Holly says ‘Thana’ but her Aunt Petunia does not hear it. The deity of death would not like _that_ woman knowing her favorite name, thank you very much.)

“Hello, darling.” Thana said, much softer than before, and pulls down her hood. 

Aunt Petunia makes a strangled noise. Thana and Holly ignore her.

“Are we going somewhere?” Holly asked, excitement leaking through her voice.

“As soon as we get you cleaned and healed.” Thana replied, kneeling down in front of the cupboard entrance. “When the body dies… it expels… things.”

“Not much, considering.” Holly said, the view of the world appropriately shaped from starving to death.

“Yes.” Thana’s lips twitched downward. She turned to face Aunt Petunia, who was staring at Thana as though she was the second coming of Jesus. “Let me clean her up.” 

“Okay.” The woman croaked, reminded of her sister. “Feel free.”

“Thanks, Aunt Petunia.” Holly said, genuinely surprised at the amount of kindness she’s being shown by her. (She doesn’t understand yet that Petunia Dursley is also abused, though she hides it quite well, she doesn’t understand yet that she’d been used as a shield by her, and she doesn’t understand yet that Petunia Dursley, though she doesn’t like Holly much, had loved her—if only because she had her sister’s eyes.)

“It’s… no issue.” 

“It bloody well better not be.” Thana grumbled, and Holly pretends not to hear. She’s carried by the embodiment of death up the stairs and into the bathroom, and for the first time in her life she’s given a gentle bath. (She does not remember it of course, but her mother absolutely enjoyed playing with Holly in the bath, mainly because of the strange faces her daughter had made when encountering magical bath toys.)

“I hurt all over, Thana.” Holly complained quietly, hesitant. 

“I know.” The woman said, carefully washing her hair. “Dying hurts.”

Holly almost opens her mouth to ask how she knows, but then decides against it. She’s _D_ _eath_ , Holly resolved herself, of course she knows what dying feels like.

“There’s many new things about your body that I will have to teach you.” Thana whispered softly, her voice tender. “Now that you are mine.”

“Yours?” Holly asked, entirely too confused, but not minding it much because Thana was being very gentle with her hair and she didn’t want her to stop.

“You have one of my marks.” She brushed the dark bangs away from her forehead, revealing the lightning shaped scar. “Technically, this is not the first time you have died.”

Holly decided to ask about that later. “Are you going to take me somewhere?”

“I cannot.” Thana says. “I am not able to physically interact with the world much longer than another hour.”

“Then… what are you going to do?”

Thana hesitated, then decided that it didn’t necessarily matter much if Holly knew what she was going to do or not. “Collect your uncle’s soul, and then scare your aunt into submission.” 

“Huh?” Holly asked, blinking her eyes very slowly, not really processing the words being said.

“Your uncle, that Vernon—he’s dead, a car crash. He was drunk.” Thana smiled, it was a kind smile, considering what they were talking about. “I thought I’d make it poetic for you, since that’s what they told you happened to your parents.”

Holly wanted to ask if the death of her uncle was on purpose or not, but decided against it. 

(It’s Thana, so _of course_ it was on purpose, not that Holly knows this.)

“I will bring you potions from your parent’s world.” Thana said, carefully rinsing off the soap from Holly’s body. “I will make sure that you are fed, and that you grow healthy and strong. And then I will make sure that you live.”

“Why?” Holly can’t keep herself from asking. “Why would you do that for me?”

“Because you are mine.” Thana said, a tad haughtily. “And you deserve better than the world, magic or otherwise, has to offer you.”

“Magic?” Holly asked.

Thana paused, green eyes blinking for a moment. “Oh yes, I’ve forgotten to tell you, haven’t I?” She shook her head, laughing a little under her breath. “You’re a witch, you’ve got magic.”

Holly stared for a moment. “Yeah, alright.” It wasn’t that hard to believe, considering just about everything that had happened to her up until this point in her life. 

Thana looked amused for a moment. “That’s it? No questions, just ‘yeah, alright’?”

“Er… was I supposed to react differently?”

Little did Holly know, she _was_ supposed to act differently, but she also was supposed to be entirely alive, was to never have met Thana, and was supposed to have a bit of someone else’s soul in her scar. (Which she didn’t have, because Thana had seen it, and then swatted it away like the bug it was.)

Thana simply shrugged, and that was the end of that.

Holly was promptly dressed, a tiny cotton shirt and a pair of gray sweats that actually seemed to fit her, and was sent to sleep in Dudley’s second bedroom. Thana whispered to her a little of the wizarding world until she fell asleep, and then walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Petunia Dursley was holding her head in her hands and drinking a small amount of brandy.

“He’s dead, you know.” Thana began. “My reapers just notified me his soul was sent to hell.” 

“Hell exists?” Petunia asked, voice slightly strangled, before sighing. “I’m not surprised.”

“Well, Hell as _you_ know it doesn’t exist, but something quite similar does. He’ll do his time, his soul scrubbed clean of this life, and then sent on to the next one.” Thana told her as a matter of factly. “Do try and avoid mistreating Holly would you? She’s mine, you know, so I would be taking great offense.”

“Yours?” Petunia asked, a look on her face as though she had just tasted something sour. 

“Mine.” Thana nodded. “You’ll be receiving potions in a couple of hours for Holly’s malnourishment, and for her… unique pains.” She didn’t quite know how to break it to this woman that Holly was technically no longer human, so she decided not to bother entirely.

“Potions?” Petunia’s shoulders tensed.

“Yes.” Thana said coldly. “And you’ll give them to her, properly, or else I’ll make sure you and your boy suffer for all eternity.” It was an empty threat, but Thana knew it would work. She had no desire to punish them, and only wanted Holly to have something resembling a home while she healed. 

Thana was Death, and she didn’t like messing with the way of things too much, but she would make sure that Holly was at least healthy if not cared for. She would not be leaving her by herself, of course, nor would she not warn her of the paths others seem to be adamant on pushing her on. But she would not change the world for Holly, not only because she was unable to, but because she knew that the girl was subject to a prophecy and those were a tricky business, even to immortal deities.

Thana takes her leave from the Dursleys house just as the police knock on the door, and after smiling at them and walking out, she hears the wails of Petunia Dursley, a mix between anguish and relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one chapter a month,,, this is purely for funzies so don't fight me or anything


	2. a deep understanding of the woman called death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holly gets her Hogwarts letter, chaos ensues. (Because of course it does)

Holly found that her life after that was remarkably easier than before. There was of course her Uncle Vernon’s funeral, where she had to deal with a hysterical Aunt Marge and a slightly less hysterical Aunt Petunia, but other than that—she found that her quality of life was steadily improving. Sure, Dudley was still kind of mean to her, but he was warned off by his mother and also too torn up about his father to do any real games of Holly Hunting. Though, she was beginning to find that her aunt was far too stressed out to watch Dudley all the time, so he still got a couple of licks in. 

(Though, she did notice that they weren't actually as cruel as they used to be, as though Dudley didn't quite have the heart to be mean to her anymore, which had caused an odd sort of sympathy to nestle in her chest.)

Not that Holly tended to pay attention to the people around her, because now one time every month _Thana_ visited. To say the least, Holly absolutely _adored_ her. The lessons they shared were priceless to Holly, and she held them close to her heart every time she learned one. Thana was very understanding with her, and better than _any_ teacher she’d ever had previously. That was because, unbeknownst to Holly, Thana had summoned every famous teacher who’d ever died to her and hurriedly asked them how to teach a ten year old girl. (Anne Sullivan was happy to help, Aristotle not so much.) She taught her everything she could, from science, history (the accurate _and_ inaccurate), english, math, to even some forms of _magic._ Thana also taught her one of the biggest boons of knowledge to ever grace Holly’s thought process, how to bullshit with the best of them. 

(Many may complain that the entity formally known as Death ought to not teach a ten year old girl how to lie, nevermind this _‘bullshit with the best of them’_ nonsense. Those many may know that not only is Thana older than you, and I assure you, she is way _way_ older, but unfortunately—lying is an integral part of not only Holly’s future and continued survival, but the future and continued survival of the people around her. So really, she doesn’t quite care what you think about it. And neither does Holly, actually.)

But, anyway, yes—Death, better known as Thana (or Thana, better known as Death) _does_ indeed teach Holly a great many things. For one day a month, Holly is introduced to many _many_ subjects and strange concepts, and is given homework to prepare for their next meeting. (Not that Thana every actually _leaves_ her, she still whispers words in her mind whenever Holly asks for help, but can only truly interact with the world around Holly when she isn’t busy. And Thana is very _very_ busy.)

But Holly’s absolute favorite lessons that Thana teaches has to be the specialized magic lessons.

One thing you’ll have to make note of is that Holly has not had a heart beat since the day of her tenth birthday, a strange and slightly poetic medical issue that isn't actually much of an issue. There is the interesting fact that blood still tends to run through her veins, but that is because of magic—not because of her most (well it used to be the most) important organ. Because of this, and because of the fact that she interacts with Death on a daily basis in her mind, she’s quite adept at the art called _necromancy._

It was a tad strange at first, communing with the dead, but one gets used to it after a while. (Even if she still has nightmares about the first time an unseen soul popped it’s head through her bedroom wall to say ‘hello’ to the one who’d been talking to all his friends about her favorite books and toys.)

“Say, Thana?” Holly huffed, her breath mingling in the night air as she digs up an unmarked grave. (When she needed bones she liked to go and find the ones that absolutely no one knew about or were to miss.) “You said wizards don’t like necromancy, and I guess I get that,” (while she was disgruntled she’d never be able to make any cool necromancer friends she understood that some people didn’t like the idea of dead bodies. Wimps.) “But why don’t they like dark magic?”

 _“Because they don’t understand it.”_ Thana replied, whispering in her mind. _“They fear what they don’t know, as is human nature.”_

Holly paused, letting her hands take a rest from the shovel work. “That seems a bit thick of them.”

 _“I said the wizarding world was powerful not smart.”_ Thana scoffed. _“Now get back to digging! After you animate your first set of human bones I’ll teach you all about blood magic!”_

(When Holly succeeded, Thana pretended to cry, going on and on about how the first human reanimation was a very important milestone in a young necromancers life. Holly just sighed and rolled her eyes, Thana said that about _every_ piece of death magic she accomplished.)

Which is how it’s really no surprise that on the day Holly gets her Hogwarts letter (exactly one year after the two meet) she immediately asks Thana why the _fuck_ the papers have so much magic in them.

 _“Oh dear.”_ Thana said, in Holly’s mind of course. _“That’s not good.”_

“What, why?” Holly asked, completely ignoring her cousin shooting her incredulous looks. (Holly has to talk out loud to reach Thana, it’s one of those things nobody can figure out but they have to do.)

 _“There’s a tiny bit of compulsion magic on the letter, Little Holly.”_

Holly knows what compulsion magic is, of course, what she doesn’t know is what in the bloody hell it’s doing on her _Hogwarts_ _letter_.

_“Worry not, darling girl, you’re immune to most compulsions that require—erm, ‘emotional attachment’ don’t you remember?”_

When it came to compulsions, she would be easily affected by something like the confundus, but something like a love potion would not even come close to working. (Holly guessed it was because she didn’t have a heartbeat, when Dudley overheard her lesson, he said it was because she didn’t have a _heart_.)

“But what’s it for?” Holly asked, bewildered. Though she was alright at wandless magic (when it came to simple spells at least) things like sussing out different compulsions were out of her league. 

_“Perhaps one to… ah.”_ Thana said. _“That man really needs to learn to stick his nose out of our business.”_

“That man?” 

_“The headmaster, he put a compulsion towards courage and honor on the letter.”_ Thana explained. _“Nothing too heavy, just a bit of magic that would make you more likely to act if you saw something you perceived as wrong—it relies on your emotional feelings more than any logical thoughts.”_

Let it be known that Dumbledore was very very guilty about putting this little bit of magic on Holly's letter, but thought that it was for 'the Greater Good' and decided to follow through with it. Though it certainly does not absolve his actions, it's always nice knowing a little bit about why people do thing that are genuinely perceived as 'Bad.' Take Holly for example, a great deal of wizards and muggles alike would not be so keen on her playing with dead things, but we both know that it's actually rather fun and a good learning experience for her, so why shouldn't she use that type of magic?

But dear narrator, you cry, don't you think that things that are dead are better off staying dead?

Well, where's the fun in that?

“He should drop dead.” Holly complained, she does not know Dumbledore personally, and only has heard the things he did and bid other children to do. Naturally, she doesn't like him very much, as is common sense. (Though, her opinion may change in the future, she is a very kind soul after all.)

 _“He’s a good man, if a stupid one.”_ Thana said, sounding slightly wary. _“Though, yes, I would like it very much if he dropped dead.”_

“Er… Holiday.” Aunt Petunia called, because she didn’t like calling her niece ‘Holly’ and didn’t want to be reprimanded by Thana for calling her something negative. “Dudley says you’ve been… talking to yourself… again.”

“It’s just Thana, Aunt Petunia, she says that a man called Dumbledore tried to use some bad magic on me, and she agreed with me when I said he should drop dead.” Holly explained as a matter of factly. 

Her aunt went very pale at this, and squeaked out an agreeable but befuddled, “Right.” Before taking her leave. 

(Little is truly known about Aunt Petunia’s relationship with Dumbledore when it comes to Holly, but know that she would also quite like it if the man that saddled her with her freakish niece and her freakish companion would drop dead. She also wished that Dumbledore ought to suffer, just the tiniest bit, for getting her sister killed.)

Holly examined the letter in her hands, running the pads of her fingers over her name. It was strange, the feeling that bubbled up inside of her. It came to her quickly, the realization that though she’d known it was coming, she hadn’t expected it to actually arrive.

Ms. R. H. Potter

The Smallest Bedroom

4 Privet Drive,

Little Whinging

Surrey

_“Well?”_ Thana interrupted. _“What are you waiting for? Go on and read it!”_

“Right.” Holly mumbled, moving to the living room and sitting down in front of the couch. Though she’s long since been allowed to sit on the furniture, she hadn’t quite gotten out of the habit of standing near the walls or positioning herself on the floor.

She opened the letter, eyeing the red wax with the Hogwarts crest, and began to read. 

HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_  
WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
 _(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Ms. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. 

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July. 

Yours sincerely,

 **Minerva McGonagall** **  
****Deputy Headmistress**

“I almost didn’t think it would come.” Holly admitted aloud as she read the list of what she would need. “I don’t know why, seeing as I’ve been practising magic for a while, but still… I almost didn’t think it would come.”

 _“Silly Holly.”_ Thana chastised. _“Of course it came.”_

The young witch nodded, as though she was trying to convince herself that Thana was right, and that there was never any doubt that she would be accepted into Hogwarts. (In truth, there was a time that it wasn’t going to come, and that was when her heart stopped beating—and though the Hogwarts enchanted quill was very confused as to why this child had died but was still alive, decided that it wasn’t paid enough for this kind of shit [considering it wasn’t paid at all], and promptly wrote out Holly’s letter.) 

_“We’ll go shopping tomorrow,”_ Thana said. _“Don’t worry about the owl, I’ll have a reaper send your letter in a moment.”_

“Alright.” Holly smiled, and then whispered breathlessly, “ _Hogwarts_.”

She wondered what would happen, would she make friends? Would she find herself enjoying her time at school like she enjoyed her lessons with Thana? What house would she be in? She hoped it was Hufflepuff, she rather liked the color yellow.

 _(There was absolutely no way that Holly Potter would end up in that house,_ complain the readers, _she’ll be in Gryffindor or Slytherin or Ravenclaw—not those duffers in Hufflepuff._ Well, that was rather rude of you to say. All have you know that _Thana_ would have been in Hufflepuff, if not for the whole _‘death’_ thing.)

And so the day ended, and the next began—and Holly Potter accompanied Thana in public for the first time in her life, in the wonderful Wizard’s shopping place, Diagon Alley. (Though she was one of the only ones that would know that she was with Thana, as it was unwise for her to make anything but the briefest of appearances in the mortal world.) 

“Come along, Little Holly.” Thana said, voice soft, when Holly opened the door that morning to find her standing there in a grass colored button-up shirt and a pair of gray slacks. “Lots to do today, little time to do it.”

“Right!” Holly chirped excitedly, “Let’s go!”

Thana smiled, a tad indulgent, and took her hand. (In truth, she’d grown fond of the young necromancer, and found herself hoping that Life treated her better than it had before.) Holly was dwarfed by Thana, and though they didn’t look all too much alike, if the people around them could see them (they couldn't actually, but if they could have) they would have smiled indulgently at what they perceived as a young mother and excitable daughter.

“We’ll walk just outside Little Whinging.” Thana explained. “And then I’ll teach you how to travel by popping open a bit of shadow.” By that, she meant that she’d be showing Holly how to open gates to Death’s realm and how she’d use them to travel instantaneously. It was a bit like apparating, but instead of an instantaneous teleportation no matter the circumstances [with the exception of certain wards] there had to be some form of shadow big enough for Holly to squeeze through in the places she wanted to leave and get to. It was what the reapers, Thana’s servants, used to get around quickly and collect the people who’d died.

Though Holly couldn’t see them (she was still partly human after all—even if she wasn’t entirely) the servants cooed over her. Every once in a while, she’d feel a sudden cold wind on her cheeks or a soft pat to her fluffy hair, but Thana just said that was them saying hello. Holly didn’t like it when people other than Thana touched her, but she reasoned with herself that if she couldn’t _see_ these reapers then it wasn’t a really big problem. 

“You’ll get used to the shadow travel soon enough.” Thana promised when Holly shivered once more. “And when you collect the second of my little Earthly Delights, you’ll be able to interact with the reapers as long as you like.” A knowing smile, “Even if it’s to tell them to sod off.”

Holly flushed, and nodded sheepishly. 

They arrived in one of the more shadowy corners of Diagon Alley, and their first stop was Gringotts. Thana was careful with Holly, making sure that her unruly bangs covered all evidence of a scar on her forehead, and that no one got a good look at her face. 

Thana led Holly deeper and deeper into the alley, all the way to a building that seemed to tower over all the other shops in the area. 

There was a long set of pearly white stairs that led up to a large pair of burnished bronze doors. Holly felt a certain amount of dread fill her up at the sight. Perhaps it was the way that Gringotts Wizarding Bank stood taller than any other building she’d ever seen before, or perhaps it was because of the stiff looking family of golden haired wizards that hurried past them without an ounce of courtesy, but one thing was for sure—Holly Potter was decidedly uncomfortable.

(But then of course, Holly Potter was always decidedly uncomfortable when it came to the public, and decided not to let it get to her. Even if it was hard to ignore the truly ominous words of warning on the front door.)

“Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.” Holly’s voice wobbled, leaning closer to Thana as she eyed the uniformed goblins that stood flanking the doors, watching the wizards with deep and untrusting eyes.

“A bit melodramatic.” Thana agreed, her eyes twinkling. “Though I don’t believe the goblins deserve that bit of commentary from you, Hell is much too good for them.”

“Really?” Holly asked, curious.

“Well, no.” Thana admitted. “I was just trying to make you feel better, fascinating beings, those goblins. Their souls are the richest, don’t you know? Always the color of metals and gems, always smelling of smoke and the deepest caverns on Earth.”

Holly felt decidedly better as Thana rambled on, she quite liked it when her friend described things to her, though all this talk of souls was making her skin itch.

When they entered, it was clear that the goblins immediately sensed that something was off. Not that Holly was paying much attention, no—she was admiring the tall white and gold pillars, the high ceilings, and the vast marble hall. There were about a hundred goblins sitting in their stations, counting gold or helping people or doing the strangest things with gems. There were doors too, brass and silver and gold and wood—too many different doors to count. 

The goblins themselves were strange creatures, but not strange enough that Holly would find herself staring. They were short, maybe three feet tall, and they had dark, wrinkled skin. They counted golden, silver, and bronze coins with long gnarled fingers, and occasionally stroked a pointed beard or adjusted an oddly pointed hat—a couple even fiddled with wire framed golden glasses. It made Holly curious, how fidgety these goblins seemed to be, and she couldn’t help but notice that their dark, slanted eyes seemed to flicker to the spot where Thana stood every once and a while.

The other wizards and occasional muggles didn’t seem to notice her (seeing as they couldn't actually _see_ here) so why did these goblins seem entirely too on edge in her presence?

(It was unknown to Holly at this moment, but the goblins had various wards and securities in place at Gringotts, more than she would ever know. There was one in particular, that never failed to be put in place, that tagged the many patrons of the bank. It was a powerful ward, a very powerful ward indeed, that helped to keep track of the outsiders who so often came rumbling in. Not only did the ward fail to place it’s mark on Death, but it bounced off of her so violently it completely shattered the defense. This is a ward that would not be fixed until _after_ Holly Potter’s seventh year at Hogwarts.)

“Hello.” Holly began cordially as they reached the front of the line. “I’d like to access my vault please.”

“And which one would that be?” The goblin sneered, though their face was paler than usual. (Goblins didn’t like the gender constructs placed upon them by the wizarding world, and Thana had made sure Holly knew and respected this.)

“Vault 687, for now.” Holly said, “But, well, I’d like to take a blood test.” 

(A golden haired family of witches was attempting to eavesdrop, with the exception of their two daughters, and Holly had not noticed. Thana, on the other hand, had.)

“687?” The goblin asked in disbelief. 

“A blood test first.” She said simply. 

The goblin shook themselves out of their surprise, looking at Holly with a nasty sort of glare. Holly remained unfazed, she’d seen worse. 

“For a fee.” They grunted, beady eyes glancing around where Holly stood. And though they could not see the woman who was no doubt the reason for their stress, the goblin thought that they could feel the malevolent deity’s laughter.

“Of course.” She stated agreeably. “To a private room, please?”

The goblin said nothing for a moment, before nodding and hopping down from their station. “Follow me.” 

The process was rather quick, seven drops of blood onto a piece of parchment. She watched, her eyes wide and curious, as her blood spread out onto the page, seeping in and writing out words in red. 

_Rose Holiday Potter_

_Affiliated Vaults:_

_687 - Potter trust (Accessible)_

_747 - Black trust (Accessible)_

_542 - Evans (Inaccessible)_

_813 - Potter family (Inaccessible)_

_853 - Peverell family (Inaccessible)_

_963 - Black family (Inaccessible)_

_Affiliated Titles:_

_Noble House of Potter Heiress - unclaimed_

_Noble House of Potter Ladyship - unclaimed_

_Most Ancient and Noble House of Black Heiress - unclaimed_

_Most Ancient and Noble House of Black Ladyship - inaccessible_

_Most Ancient House of Peverell Heiress - unclaimed_

_Most Ancient House of Peverell Ladyship - unclaimed_

“That seems like a lot.” Holly pointed out. “Like… a whole lot.”

“ _Peverell_.” Thana sighed with contempt, “Of course.”

The goblin said nothing, only shooting Holly an evil little glare. The poor creature didn’t much like being in the presence of this young witch, not only because she seemed ignorant about the many riches she could lay claim to, but also because the second she had walked into Gringotts, something had gone wrong with the goblins most precious ward.

“Right, well—you’ll be claiming all those… heiress titles… not the ladyships yet, of course, considering you’ve only just turned eleven.” Thana began, wandering around the room that the goblin had led them too. She wrinkled her nose at the old decorations, dust that layered every surface, and the many cobwebs near the ceiling. “Me thinks someone should hire an interior decorator.”

Holly fought back a giggle, before turning to the goblin and requesting her allow her to claim the heiress titles. 

“You won’t be getting them, the wizards like to keep watch on these sorts of things, and not only are you only a little girl—but your… _situation_ is special to them.” The goblin sneered.

“I don’t much care what the Ministry of Magic thinks.” Holly said honestly. “I just want to claim my heirships, and you don’t necessarily have to tell them, I’d really value your discretion and I’d be really appreciative if you could do it, please?”

(At this, Thana sighed, because there was no way that after this trip that nobody would know she hadn’t claimed her heirships, but resolved to tell her that _after_ they got out of Gringotts.)

“Please.” The goblin scoffed.

“Okay!” Holly said, missing it’s sarcasm entirely, “Say, what’s your name? You never introduced yourself.”

“Ergit, witchling.” Ergit sighed.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you!” Holly smiled. “Now please consider what I have to say?”

“Right.” Thana nodded approvingly, crossing her arms and shooting Ergit a level stare. (One they did not notice, as they were not able to see her, though they did feel a certain and unexpected chill, and shifted slightly in their seat.) “To get those heiress rings you’re probably going to have to bribe him with some gold, do that.”

“Er—there’s donations in it for you, if you get my rings here, and if you keep silent about what you’re doing.”

“How much?” Ergit narrowed their eyes.

“Say… twenty galleons.” Thana recommended, “That’s about one-hundred pounds, sizeable enough for something like this, a simple retrieval… though if they hesitate double it, can’t be too sure with goblins.”

“Twenty galleons.” Holly said confidently. 

Ergit narrowed their eyes. 

Holly raised a brow, “I can double that for you—let’s say the first twenty for the retrieval, and the next because you’re going _so_ far out of your way.”

(In truth, the rings were actually close by, in the offices of the goblins who ran the families finances.) 

Ergit, a goblin of class, did as told. Though of course they only did it _after_ some haggling. They wouldn’t be very classy if they didn’t put up much of a fight.

(When goblins think of ‘class’ they think of the ones of their race unashamed to take bribes, as long as they don’t violate goblin law, of course. Ministry law, however, the goblin race could not give two shits about.)

“Thana?” Holly asked once the goblin was gone, looking down at the parchment again. “Is my first name really Rose?”

“It would appear so.”

“And my middle name’s really _Holiday_?” She asked again, nose scrunched. “Only Aunt Petunia calls me that, and I’ve been called Holly my whole life—so how is it I didn’t know my full name?” 

“I suspect that’s your relatives doing.” 

“Really?” Holly pursed her lips. “That sucks.”

Thana laughed, “It does.”

Ergit returns then, looking more annoyed than before and holding three small handsome wooden ring boxes. The first one was made of dark, almost black wood, and had the engraving of a raven edged with white paint into the top—each of the edges of the box was lined with silver leather. The second was more of a cherry color, with a large golden seahorse painted onto the lid, there was gold paint lining the edges. The final box was slightly crude, of what looked like birch wood, with an assortment of triangles inelegantly burnt into every piece of the surface. 

“Here, witchling, take them.” Ergit handed them to her, a cruel smile on their weathered face. “Take them and hope your magic survives.” 

“It will.” Thana stated, bored. “And then you’ll convince this lucky creature to get the goblins in charge of running your family vaults here to talk about why you haven't been getting your yearly bank statements.”

“Right on!” Holly stated with determination, much to the amusement of Thana and the confusion of Ergit.

Deciding to get right into it, Holly picked the Peverell box up first. She didn’t know what she was expecting when she popped open the rough wooden lid, but she was still surprised when her eyes landed upon the crude looking ring. The band was silver, simple if not for the battered misshapen way that altered the ring in such a way Holly was sure it was done on purpose. She carefully pulled it from its home in the velvety softness that was layered inside the wooden walls of the box. Holly raised an eyebrow when she noticed what was inscripted on the inside of the band.

_Memento Mori_

“That’s funny.” Thana eyed the phrase. “You know, considering… like, just about everything.” She moved to sit on the desk, not bothering to pay much attention to Ergit. (Who was now suddenly very, _very_ cold.) “It must be because Ignotus was the one who lasted long enough to do this kind of shit.” She looked tired suddenly, when she glanced down at the box and all the engraved triangles. “I bet it would be circles, if you had been related to Cadmus.”

Deciding she wanted to put all rings on at once, she reached for the next box, the Black family one. She eyed the ravens for a moment, before shrugging and popping open the lid. The ring was black, with very dark blue straight lines engraved in the band. The lines intersected, and it took a moment to realize that they were not straight lines at all, but simplistic swords shaped like the lowercase letter ‘t’. It was an antique ring, a bit too big and gaudy for Holly’s tiny fingers. There was a stone in the center of it, a very large and shiny pearl, and under it was another phrase.

_Toujours Pur_

“Always pure.” Thana scoffed sarcastically, “Right.”

She grabbed the next box, the cherry wood one with the golden seahorse painted on top of it. She propped open the lid, and frowned. It was a gold and red nugget ring, far too extravagant and large for her fingers. There was a seahorse curling around the piece of jewelry, made of what looked like solid gold, that was actually _moving_. The tail wrapped around the band one minute and then curled in on it’s tiny curly body the next. Unlike the other two rings, there was no phrase engraved on the inside or outside of it, just a single word.

_Invicta_

“That’s kind of ironic.” Thana noted. “That word, ‘ _unconquered_ ’.” 

Holly stayed silent and slipped on the rings one at a time. Apparently they went on her left ring and pinky fingers, the one with more social status going on the pinky. (Which was where the Black ring would go.) To her happiness, they shrunk to fit her fingers, so now they only looked kind of terrible and not entirely.

Nothing happened after that.

Actually, quite a bit happened. The second Holly Potter slipped on the Peverell ring, coincidentally the exact second that was in the middle of the August Wizengamot session, the Peverell seat popped right back up in existence, much to the horror of two men. The first, Lord Greengass, who had been sitting next to the empty space where the chair popped up, was given quite the shock. The second, Albus Dumbledore, who recognized the heirship seat due to his past… exploits. 

Then, when Holly Potter slipped the Black ring onto her pinky finger, the many witches and wizards of the Wizengamot all gasped in collective horror as a smaller version of the Black family’s lordship seat popped up next to it. Once again, only two men were truly horrified, Lucius Malfoy (who’d been hoping for his son to have been next in line for Black family fortune) and Albus Dumbledore, who could not quite wrap his head around the idea Sirius Black having a child. 

Then, right as the Wizengamot was beginning to calm down, Holly Potter slipped on the third and final ring. 

“Holy shit!” Cried Tiberius Ogden. (Though he didn’t really cry ‘holy shit’ actually crying ‘oh merlin,’ but he did wish that he cried out ‘holy shit’ later which is why it has been written as such.) “Rose Potter just claimed three different house heirships!”

(She was, of course, called Rose because that was legally Holly's first name, and the wizarding world didn't quite know she preferred Holly.)

He knew this because the last and final seat to pop up, was none other than the Potter heir seat itself, and everybody knew that only one person could ever take hold of that title.

“Good for her!” Dedalus Diggle smiled, rubbing his back from where he had landed on the floor. (He had been sitting on the Potter regent seat, and had been promptly kicked off when Holly claimed her heirship.) “Just like her father, making a prank of it and not owling anybody, I did so hope she’d inherit his mischievous streak.” He turned to Dumbledore and grinned. “Were you in on it, Headmaster?”

“Chief Warlock.” Malfoy corrected him, face pale at the idea of Holly _Potter_ getting not only the Peverell seat, but also the _Black_ seat. (Which he’d already been making plans for.)

“Er, sorry Lord Malfoy.” Diggle said, though he did not look particularly apologetic, and turned back to face Dumbledore after scrambling to his feet. “So, were you in on it?”

Dumbledore did not respond, looking very pale and very shaken, he could not speak. (This was because Thana had made sure a cluster of her Reapers were following him around all day. She knew that if they did not follow him, he’d be able to play this off as though he’d be in on it, and she did not want him to be able to use Holly’s name as a popularity booster any longer.) Due to his… situation, nothing but the truth left his mouth. “I must admit I did not know she had plans to claim these seats… I also didn’t know she had anything but the Potter house seat.”

“Ah! So she got _you_ too.” Diggle giggled. (Ha! ‘Diggle giggled.’) “Smart lass, that Rose Potter.”

 _A smart lass indeed,_ thought all three factions of the Wizengamot.

The light, because it was funny to see Dumbledore shaken and because it was nice to see some evidence of Holly actually _alive_. (Some of them were beginning to get suspicious, you see, and had decided to see if she attended Hogwarts before bringing the matter up with Dumbledore.) They had been worried for their young savior, and many had been awfully confused when the friends of their parents were not able to send her much of anything for presents or pictures. Dumbledore had assured them that there was a mail ward in place, but many weren't so sure. It seemed, to them, that the headmaster had decided to be open and honest for once.

 _A smart lass indeed._ The dark thought, because they too found it funny to see the Chief Warlock one upped, and because they realized that if Holly did not tell the headmaster what she had planned, surely it was because she didn’t confide in him so often—as Albus had led them to believe. Some even began to make plans to show her the much better much more inclusive (the narrator types sarcastically) darker side of magic, and perhaps win her over. (They, of course, did not know that young Holly was already dabbling in the dark arts, but they were not need to be made aware of that just yet.)

 _A smart lass indeed,_ thought the gray, because it was interesting to see just what Holly Potter had done and who she had deceived. They of all the factions of the wizarding political parties, probably had a much more likely chance of recruiting her to take part on their side, and that was simply because they weren't so interested in her when it came to the (albeit temporary, though they didn't know that) defeat of Voldemort.

So yes, a very smart lass indeed.

Back at Gringotts, Holly was doing something not so smart, and arguing with four different goblins.

The Black family goblin (named Furor) snarled, recoiling. “You _dare_ accuse Gringotts of theft?” (He liked the pronouns ‘he, him’ though many wizards called him ‘she.’)

“We ought to kick you out, leave it to a witch to accuse _us._ ” Sneered the Potter Family goblin. (Their name was Bogrod.)

“No! I’m saying some wizard messed with my accounts when they weren’t supposed to!” She protested.

The Peverell family said nothing, looking at Holly with a curious expression on her face. (Her name was Obrin, and she rather liked the ‘she, her’ pronouns, though many humans saw her beard and mistook her for something else entirely.) 

Ergit glared (or maybe that was just their face), “What are you proposing, witch?”

“I want the person who messed with my stuff to pay.” Holly shrugged. “You can ruin ‘em however you want to, as long as they get to being ruined.”

Bogrod watched her suspiciously. “We’ll see.”

“That’s the best you’re going to get, Holly darling.” Thana said, checking her watch. “Hurry dear, I need to take you to the wand shop in full public view, remember? Knockturn Alley is such a dreadful place for the living, though I must admit I am quite fond of the amount of souls it brings me.”

Holly sighed. “Look, just think about it? I really want this person to pay for messing with me.” 

They all exchanged looks. “We will consider your proposal.” Obrin said merrily, much to the chagrin of the other goblins. She smiled as warmly as she could, which wasn’t quite warm, as her teeth were very sharp and her large beard got in the way of her mouth. “Throughout the year, you will be receiving our post via houself, so that there is no way for things to go awry.”

The rest grumbled a little, though they all followed Obrin’s example.

After Holly received an enchanted pouch that summoned money from her accounts and the two keys to her trust vault (which also acted like credit cards, something Holly found very cool) it was time to leave Gringotts.

They walked out of the bank, and once more Holly marveled at the sheer size of the building she’d been in. She drifted a little, eyeing the words of warning engraved on the wall, wondering just how deep the vaults ran. She fantasized about that for a minute, the darkness of the caves—how beautiful the gems and ores must sparkle for the goblins, how they would sing for their wrinkly pointed ears and penetrate their stone hearts alone. 

(In truth, Holly’s fantasy was not that far off, as the goblins do here the gems and ores sing—but they also hear everything else too—they hear the wood and the earth and the stone, they hear the words of the clothes they wear, of the goblets they drink out of. They hear the core of a wizard's wand, and it is because of that, and they know who a person is by the song of a phoenix, or the gentle whistle if a unicorn, or the fiery tunes of a dragon—and many, many more cores, Veela and Thestral and Mermaid, much too many cores to count. The goblins hear all of this and more, and Holly Potter would never truly comprehend these things until she was finished with mortality.)

She stops for a moment, feeling as though she just missed out on something important. Thana looked back, frowning and grabbed Holly’s hand, leading her forward. This is all fine and good, only Holly slips—because of course she does—and accidentally knocks into a girl her age. It was quite the twist of fate, for Holly Potter to bump into _this_ particular girl at _this_ particular moment. Holly blinked rapidly, her mouth opening and closing as she sputtered out hasty apology after hasty apology.

"Oh I'm so terribly sorry! I didn't mean to bump into you..." Holly trailed off, blinking as she watched the girl in front of her.

The girl said nothing for a moment, her face smooth and cool as she discreetly examined Holly with a critical eye that made Holly the slightest bit uncomfortable. 

Her hair was golden, straight and soft looking, not a single strand out of place. Her skin was very fair, with only the slightest bit of pink in her cheeks and nose, and the left side of the curve of her jaw and mouth were littered with the smallest amounts of tiny moles and freckles. Her lips were pursed, and there was the smallest of crinkles around her heavy lidded eyes that gave way to an all around displeased look. There was a distinct sophistication about this young girl, and Holly was in shock to notice that they were probably very close in age. Her clothes were what shook Holly the slightest bit, it was clear that this girl was very, _very_ rich, her robes a dark green and made of silk.

Holly wondered for a moment if she looked odd, standing next to this girl, with her dark and messily handled hair, her tan brown skin, and her rumpled clothing—second hand and worn, despite them being her best clothes. “Um…” Holly said weakly. “I’m really very sorry.”

“You’ve said.” The girl replied with a single raised eyebrow. “Numerous times.” Her eyes were blue, and Holly found herself comparing them to the cornflower… soft in shade and _beautiful_.

“Er… so I did! Still very much sorry.” Holly didn’t know why it was important that she acknowledged to herself that the girl in front of her had pretty eyes, but she knew it was important for some reason. 

The girl looked supremely unimpressed.

Holly wilted, her body appearing frailer than it already was. Though she was now being fed properly, there was no doubt that Holly would never be anything but a slim girl, with gangly limbs and knobby knees. A gentle hand was pressed to her shoulder, and immediately she relaxed, knowing it was Thana immediately.

The girl’s eyes lingered on the hand gently gripping Holly’s shoulder, before snapping up towards Thana. Something flared in her expression, and her contempt was neatly hidden in another emotionless mask.

“Come along, Little Holly.” Thana said with a not so subtle wink, her voice was amused. “You know I can only stick around for so long before I go poof.”

Holly snapped out of it immediately, hurriedly leading Thana away. “Sorry again!” She called out to the girl with less guilt than she had before. And as she made her way with her friend to buy her things, she realized that Thana had allowed the strange girl to _look_.

“Don’t worry about it.” Thana leaned down and ruffled her messy hair. “Just watch out for that one in the future, alright? Something tells me someone important has got their eye on her.”

(Let it be known that Thana knew exactly who had blessed the little nameless human girl, and that she needed to warn Holly to be careful, but something about the look in her young ward’s eyes made her hesitate to do so. In the end, she decided to let Holly choose what she would do, after all—Thana could only do so much in the domain which Life dominated, and Holly was still a young mortal, no matter how much Thana wished she could tell her everything.)

“Come along, Holly.” She spoke after a moment, “We’ll get your school supplies, then have you sized for a new wardrobe, and after order your wand from Knockturn.”

“Why won’t we be going to Ollivander’s?” Holly asked as she was rushed into a bookstore called _Flourish and Blotts._ “Isn’t that where everyone else gets their wand?”

“It would be troublesome to have you assessed by the man who runs the shop, besides, the trace won’t be put on the wand you get from Knockturn.” Thana explained gently, though she saw the sadness in Holly’s eyes. (This was because she wanted a slightly normal experience in Diagon Alley, one that wasn’t filled with possible nobility or illegal activities. Death magic was fine though, after all Holly quite liked death magic.) “Perhaps… if you so desire it, we can return sometime after, back up wands can be very useful.”

“Okay!” She cheered, feeling the slightest bit better.

Thana smiled fondly, and the two walked off—content in that moment to move forward, no matter what the future may hold for them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once or month or twice a month,,,,, it's probs gonna be once a month folks, sorry


	3. favorite names

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> before i continue this i just want everyone to know jk rowling can choke
> 
> but also harry potter tiktok has rekindled the desire to write this! so!! that's fun!! also i already had this chapter written out i had just forgotten to post it and harry potter tiktok reminded me it had been literal months so

Holly Potter would like to point out that when she walked into the shop called _Twik’s Twigs_ , she had not been expecting anything out of the ordinary to happen. Sure, she was new at this whole ‘witch’ thing, but Thana’s advice had been enough to tide her over in the previous shops, so she assumed that she’d be able to muscle through this one. 

She had been wrong. 

Perhaps it was the woman who ran the shop, pale brown skin and ruby red lips—with a sharp edge to most of her features. It was almost as though someone had taken a knife and carved at her until the only label that could be accompanied with her was ‘distinctly pointy.’ The strange thing, was that it _suited_ her, there was no softness to her face, no ounce of comfort or warmth—but it was clear that the woman was comfortable in her own skin, that she was prepared for something that Holly could not perceive. 

“Oh dear.” Thana sighed. “This one’s a vampire—she can’t hear your heartbeat… this complicates things terribly.”

“Hello.” Holly greeted through gritted teeth, doing her best not to panic at what she’d just been told. “I’d like to buy a wand, please.”

The woman watched her with a strange smile on her face. “All the wands here are custom made, can you afford that, little darling?” She had an accent that Holly couldn’t identify.

(This woman, though Holly did not know it right that moment, was most curious as to how she had managed to hide her heartbeat, and was currently in the process of wondering if Holly even had one. She decided, quite seriously, that it wasn’t any of _her_ business if children ran around without heartbeats these days—besides, any child smart or stupid enough to wander down to _her_ little shop instead of Ollivander’s was a child she supposed was worth meeting.)

Holly didn’t like the way the woman called her ‘little darling’ she didn’t like most pet names, unless they came from Thana—and even then, they tended to grate on her nerves a little. “You’ll find I can.” She shifted uncomfortably. “Are you the wandmaker?” 

“That I am.” The woman bowed her pointy head, and her pointy lips curled over her pointy face, her long straight hair falling forward to reveal a pointy pair of ears. “You may call me Cruz if you wish, though I’d rather you call me Esperanza.” 

“Is Esperanza your favorite name?” She asked.

“Pardon?”

“I was curious if it was your favorite.” Holly nodded seriously, straightening her shoulders and looking Esperanza in her rust colored eyes. “I like calling people the names that they rather be called, because calling someone something they don’t like seems awfully rude—so you don’t have to tell me your favorite, if you don’t want to, I was only wondering.” 

“How kind of you.” She bowed her head once more. “Now, do you know what kind of wand you’d like to have made, or would you like to test out the materials?”

“Test out the materials, please.” Holly answered after a moment.

“Wonderful.” Esperanza grinned, revealing her pointy teeth over her pointy red lips. She reached down below the counter top, pulling out tons of soft blue and red looking bags. “Choose the ones that feel right.”

“Yes, Esperanza.” Holly said, careful to say her name so she’d know that she was both able and wanted to say it. She moved her small hands over material, smiling at the velvety feeling, and ended up choosing three of the ten bags. 

“Ooh, unique customer.” Esperanza wiggled her eyebrows, taking the bags and spilling them out on the counter. In the first two there were all kinds of different woods, in all kinds of different colors—cherry, dark brown, golden. In the third there were more peculiar looking items—oddly colored feathers, reptile scales, fine wispy looking hairs, and even what looked like some type of bone. “Pick up everything that feels right.”

Holly obeyed, doing her best not to let her excitement get the best of her. (She failed, but the wandmaker was far too amused to say anything about her obvious energy and Thana far too exasperated.)

“Oh that’s strange.” Esperanza said. “It appears as though you’ve picked up two of the woods and cores, very peculiar, I think.”

“Peculiar as in bad?” Holly asked, her shoulders shrinking in slightly. “I didn’t mean to do anything wrong.”

“Hush, you silly girl.” The wandmaker seemed fond, if a little annoyed. “It only means that you shall pay a little more than usual, that’s all—your options are to have one wand made with a single wood and core, any combination of course, have two wands made from them—or have a single wand made from all the material your magic has decided to make friends with.”

“Oh!” Holly felt relieved. “I’ll have a single wand, please—with everything in it, preferably.”

“Alright.” Esperanza nodded. “You’ll have to pay half up front of course, eleven galleons now and eleven after.” She smiled. “Normally specially made wands are about fifteen galleons, but yours is going to be a bit harder than most _normal_ ones, plus the extra materials, chalks up the price to seven more.”

“Ah, okay.” Holly said, pretending that she didn’t flinch at word normal and pulling out ten of the round golden coins. “Here you are, miss! Thank you for making my wand.”

“Don’t thank me yet, child—who knows if woods are compatible with the cores like this, it’s always different, you know? One day you have blackthorn and holly working with unicorn hair perfectly fine, the next it implodes on itself in a bit of an angry fit!”

“That’s interesting.” Holly mumbled, pondering it for a moment. 

Holly didn’t know much about wands, and she never would quite _completely_ understand wand lore, but our darling Esperanza knew _quite_ a bit. She knew that wands were temperamental things when combined with more material than usual, she knew that there was never a definite personality or power type that came with her more unique specialized wands. Cowards and heroes, bootlickers and anarchists, weaklings and warriors—just because someone bonded with a unique wand didn’t immediately _guarantee_ that they’d be all powerful, that they’d be all good or evil. 

(But something told our vampire wandmaker that the girl in front of her would do great things, whether she was hated or loved from them mattered little—the child would grow to be something to behold, and Esperanza didn’t know whether or not feel honored or worried that the girl came to _her_ for her first wand.)

“It’ll be a little while.” She explained, “About… maybe four hours or so, you can wait in the lounge if you’d like—I wouldn’t personally recommend wandering out and about into Knockturn, but to each their own.”

“I’ll wait here if it isn’t too much trouble.” Holly smiled sheepishly. “I’ve got a lot of books to read, so it won’t be boring or anything.”

Esperanza smiled, though it looked more mischievous than anything else. “I see. If you end up in Ravenclaw, don’t say I didn’t warn you so.”

“I _won’t_ be in Ravenclaw.” Holly wrinkled her nose. “Nothing wrong with that house, but I heard they live in a _tower_ , I don’t much like towers—too far from the ground for me to feel comfortable with.”

“Afraid of heights?” The wandmaker asked, putting away the bags she wouldn’t be using. She wondered if she should go to the back to make the wand, but decided that if the little girl was going to be staying in her shop she should at least keep her company while she worked. 

“Something like that.” In truth, Holly didn't much mind heights, but she didn’t like being away from the ground too long. That was where all the _fun_ things lived, the animals and plants—where the skeletons danced and the feel of her favorite magic lingered. (Her favorite magic being necromancy, of course, do try and keep up.)

Esperanza, knowing when not to press, hummed and got back to work.

Four hours passed without much fuss, Holly deeply immersed in her potions recipe book (while cross referencing it with a handbook that Thana recommended she buy) and Esperanza tirelessly working on her wand.

(Know this, since the wandmaker was a vampire it was a tad bit easier for her to make wands then someone human like Ollivander. Her hands never shook, and her vision was perfect. That’s not to say she couldn’t make mistakes, but it was very, _very_ unlikely for her to do so—unlike an old man who creeped out his customers on a regular basis.)

“All finished now, little darling.” Esperanza wiped at her forehead despite the fact that there was no sweat building there. (Reflexes from her human life, no doubt.) She beamed over where Holly was sitting, gesturing for her to take a look. 

Holly got up, her knees wobbling as she used her legs, and hurried over to the counter—looking at the newly made wand with a look of awe on her face.

“Here you are.” Esperanza handed over the stick, grinning sharply when Holly made a happy noise at finally being able to hold it. “See if it feels right.”

Her wand was a golden brown, lined with another yellow green wood that wrapped around the base like veins. When she held it in her hand, it pulsed—a throbbing intensity that reminded her of the feeling that accompanied Thana’s hands, a warmth and comfort that probably shouldn’t have been warm and comfortable. 

“You’ve got a curious little thing there, nice and contradictory.” The shopkeep smirked, a bit of fang peeking out over her ruby red lips. “Hawthorn and Vine wood, Rougarou and Thestral hair—it’s as though your wand shan’t decide if it would like to heal or hinder.” 

That, Holly thought, sounded uncomfortably familiar.

(It was because it was uncomfortably familiar. Though she did not know it, if Holly had not died she would have gone on with one wood and one core, but since she'd essentially been reborn she'd need more materials to compensate. Surprisingly enough, the hinder comes from before she died and the healing after.) 

“Thank you.” She said after a moment, pulling another ten galleons out of her bag. “I really appreciate you doing this for me.”

Esperanza eyed her for a moment. “No you wouldn’t be in Ravenclaw, would you? I’m a wandmaker, girl, and this is my shop. It is of no personal feeling.”

Holly frowned. It sounded like an insult, but something told her that Esperanza meant for it to seem like more than that. A test, she thought dimly, perhaps it was a test for something.

But what?

“Thank you anyway.” Holly said, looking up into the vampire’s eyes resolutely, not changing her answer. “I still really appreciate it.”

Esperanza smiled, and though it was still pointy, there was something soft about the nature of this particular look on her face. “No, you won’t be in Ravenclaw.”

Holly left the store and waved goodbye, not noticing the inkling of curiosity on the vampire’s face.

“Hmm.” Esperanza thought as the little girl disappeared, she reached into her pocket pulling out a yellow and black pin. She flicked it from one hand to another, not smiling but not frowning. She had a feeling that it wouldn’t be the last she saw of that strange little girl, the one who had not given her name on purpose. “How interesting.” She whispered, and began to clean up her workstation.

Holly was led out of the shop by Thana, who materialized as soon as she could to take her back down into the shadow. 

“Do be careful about names, Holly.” She warned the second they were out of earshot, and though her face was not unkind, it held a grim sort of determination that made Holly pause.

She watched Thana, reaching out to grip her hand as they walked away. “What do you mean?”

Thana’s lips twisted. Holly did not notice, but Thana really was quite worried, there was a chance that something may go wrong for her ward in the future, and that left a bitter taste in her mouth. “I couldn’t interrupt you in the shop and risk her noticing something, so I didn’t get a chance to tell you that names can be powerful things.”

“But—”

“I said they _can_ be, not that they always are—sometimes, when a creature of magic dislikes or doesn’t want their name, they don’t become entirely powerful. It helps them from being the victims of certain dangers, but they risk fading into themselves, becoming a shell of what they once were. Those who _are_ attached to their names get a bit of magical boost, but constantly run the risk of being hurt through them—bound, killed, injured, all sorts of nasty little things.” 

“Is that what happened to Voldemort?” Holly asked her, eyes widening ever so slightly. “Surely his name hadn’t always been Voldemort, so—”

“Mr. Riddle is a complicated matter.” Thana admitted to her quietly, making sure no one was eavesdropping on them. “He changed his, yes, but he delved into some dangerous magic to make his new name... different than the usual.”

“Riddle seems like a fine name.” Holly admitted after a moment. She actually rather liked it, it sounded as though it came from a story book, a name belonging to that of a protagonist. How would it sound when given to someone? She pursed her lips, _Holiday Riddle_ sounded tad pretentious, but it was more interesting than what she had. “I wonder why he changed it, other than the fact that Voldemort seems more ‘dark lord-ish’ than Riddle does.”

And Thana, not knowing that Holly had considered renaming herself after the man who killed her parents, laughed. “I suppose that’s one reason, Holly dear.”

* * *

“Aunt Petunia.” Holly said, firm. “I’m going to Hogwarts today.”

Her aunt blinked, “That’s nice, Holiday.”

“Thana—” (Though Aunt Petunia didn’t hear the name ‘Thana’ leave Holly’s lips, hearing nothing of who she meant but knowing exactly who she was talking about) “—said that she would drop me off at the Hogwarts Express, and that you didn’t have to take me.”

Well, in truth Thana had said that her aunt _wouldn’t_ be taking Holly, but she figured that what her aunt didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

“Thats...” Aunt Petunia paused, and unbeknownst to Holly felt quite thankful for her freakish niece’s companion, if only because she couldn’t bear the sight or the feel or the _stench_ of magic for another moment longer. Holly had been using that wand of hers more and more often, and the scent of death saturated every inch of her room and stained the flowers in the backyard—making it quite hard for Aunt Petunia to do much back there except stare. “Acceptable.” Her aunt decided.

Holly beamed. “Wicked.”

Which was how Holly Potter ended up sitting in an empty compartment on the Hogwarts express exactly an hour before it was slated to leave. She had made sure to lock the doors and shut the blinds, and was reading a book about transfiguration that made her face remain in a semi-permanent frown.

“Thana.” Holly whined. “This is so _boring,_ who cares about the four types of transfiguration if I can like, make super cool _zombies?_ ” 

(Which, if you were asking the narrator to answer honestly, was fair.)

 _“Please don’t say that to your transfiguration teacher.”_ Thana’s voice rang out, an echo in the compartment that didn’t bother Holly at all but made a couple people in neighboring rooms suddenly felt very cold and inexplicably nervous. _“Not only will she take great personal offence to it, but when you say that you can make zombies she may actually faint.”_

Holly pouted. “Everyone here is boring if _zombies_ are what makes them scared enough to pass out.”

Really, they were very easy to make, and also _very_ easy to destroy. All you had to do was set them on fire or smash their heads in. Thana had of course pointed out to her that many wizards mistook zombies for inferi (who they were _right_ to be afraid of) but that just lead to Holly ranting on how stupid they must be if they mistook a zombie for an _inferius._

She had been in a one sided argument with Thana for about an hour (the train had already started moving) when it happened. “— _honestly_ Thana! Can they even call themselves proper magic users if they don’t understand the nuances between—”

She was interrupted by a knock on the door.

_“Ah, I don’t know if you’re going to want to answer that Holly—”_

To which Holly thought, _screw you I do what I want._

“Uh.” Holly said, opening the door and meeting the eyes of a girl and a boy. “Hi.”

The girl was a couple inches taller than Holly and the boy. She had dark brown skin, tightly coiled bushy brown hair, teeth a tad too big for her face, and pretty brown eyes. She was already in her Hogwarts robes, the school uniform pressed in the right places and without a single wrinkle or piece out of place. Holly got the impression that she was trying a little too hard, and resolved herself to help her relax a little. Going to Hogwarts was _scary_ after all, and she couldn’t help but wonder if the nameless girl was like her—barely learning about the word she was a part of.

The boy, on the other hand, was short. Not shorter than Holly, but that was only because everyone was taller than her. (A side effect of malnutrition, Thana had told her with a sad smile.) He had dark blonde hair, pale blue eyes, the most adorable freckles, and a round, earnest face. His cheeks were a ruddy red, and he twitched awkwardly when Holly looked at him. He was in standard wizarding robes, but looked mightily uncomfortable in them—but that might’ve been just because he was uncomfortable everywhere.

(Their names were, of course, Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom—though Holly didn’t quite know that yet.)

A beat of awkward silence passed.

This was about the moment that Holly Potter decided that they were all going to be _wonderful_ friends.

(Thana, who had been watching this, resolved herself in whatever shenanigans her ward was going to drag these poor, innocent children into. And then she laughed because as worried as she was it was also _hilarious._ )

The girl smiled, a little tight, and the boy shifted nervously. “Have you seen a toad run by? I’m afraid Neville’s lost his.”

“Oh, no.” Holly said, frowning a bit. “That’s terrible, I can try and summon it for you if you like! Or we can go and find an older student to do it if you don’t want me too.”

“Why would we not want you to?” The girl asked, looking a bit startled.

“Only because I’m a first year, is all.” Holly said. “Lots of people don’t trust us, see, we have the potential to go anywhere and make all types of friends before we’re sorted—and that scares everyone older, because they’re so attached to the house system that they think things of people before they know them.” And then, realizing that she may have said something they wouldn’t understand and maybe she had accidentally answered a question that they didn’t technically ask, said, “Plus no one expects much of anything from us first years, only the richer purebloods know any magic before they get to Hogwarts—half-bloods and muggleborns are at a disadvantage.”

“Are you pureblood then?” The girl asked, looking wary. It was unknown to Holly at this point that she’d already encountered a few of the more bigoted ones.

“No. I’m a half-blood, I just got lucky, I guess.” _If dying and meeting Death can be considered lucky._ “Do you want me to summon him?”

“Er.” The boy started, thinking to himself that even if Holly was taking the piss it didn’t hurt to try. “If you can, and— _and_ if you _promise_ it won’t hurt him.”

“I don’t know where he is.” Holly said, “So I can’t promise he won’t be a bit banged up, but I can definitely summon it for you the same as any fourth year.”

“Okay.” The boy said, looking cowed. “Please be careful.”

The girl said nothing, only watching curiously as Holly pulled out her wand.

“Er, accio...” She realized she didn’t know the pet’s name. “Toad?”

This, of course, was Holly’s first mistake.

The girl watched for a moment, waiting. “Are you _sure_ you did it right—”

And then toads were flying into the compartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i thought it was funny to name a vampire after a cross thus 'cruz'


End file.
